


do as i say (and open up)

by autoclavebabe



Category: Alice (TV 2009)
Genre: Crying, F/M, Feeding, Food, Identity Fraud, Stuffing, Teasing, slight sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:35:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23645494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autoclavebabe/pseuds/autoclavebabe
Summary: After surviving a revolution, Hatter is learning to live in our world with Alice's help. While he learns about computers and paperwork, she learns about him. And soon enough, she plans a night for him to remember.
Relationships: Alice Hamilton/Hatter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	do as i say (and open up)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend. Please read the tags, and if it's not your thing, don't read it. Cheers!

Hatter always cleaned his plate.

It took awhile for Alice to notice; they took turns cooking, because she got in late half the time and he hadn’t sorted out the paperwork yet to do important things like get a job, or be on the lease. So, on the nights she worked late, Hatter made dinner, and when she finished early, she shooed him out of the kitchen and handed him a glass of soda to keep company until dinner was ready.

He hadn’t been out of Wonderland long, which tended to result in strange concoctions for dinner- honey glazed chicken with carrots and cereal with Kool-Aid mixed in. Hatter had a sweet tooth, and with a world of new ingredients – and guaranteed meals – he had to learn to cook all over again, without the techniques and tools he was used to. It was trial and error, and sometimes when Alice’s mother came for dinner she’d stare at Alice across her plate as if to say, _where did you even find this weirdo?_

Alice made do, though. She began, over time, to develop a fondness for celery dipped in sugar and cumin, and figured out how to pick soggy grapes out of sautéed spinach mixes. She purchased a handful of simple cookbooks, and took Hatter shopping, and so it was several weeks by the time she realized that when Hatter cooked, they never had leftovers.

This realization, of course, came to mind over a dinner of oven-baked linguini with whole anchovies and onions, which had burnt slightly. The concept of pasta was new to Hatter, and apparently he’d over-estimated both the time it would take to cook and the saltiness of anchovies. Alice had eaten what she could, washing the anchovies down with water to dampen the cough that tickled in her throat from the salt, but she still couldn’t bring herself to finish the crunchy noodles on her plate.

“I need you to show me the computer again,” Hatter said, pausing to chew hard on a particularly tough bit of linguini. “I was on the address for, er. The forum? Wonder Pearls? But then all the lights went out and when they came back the computer was locked out.”

Alice nodded and got up to pour herself more water from the fridge. “Power outage. Probably because of all the construction down the block, loose wire or something.” Hatter muttered something around his mouthful in response, then swallowed and tried again.

“Yeah. I finally got an account on there, and there was this page about forging a birth certificate, and apparently if you say you came from a town in… Nee-vahda? One of the little ones that’s off the map, they don’t have a hospital so if you can forge a birth certificate from there you can get the rest of the paperwork to get a social security card and whatnot.” Alice, from the kitchen, hummed in response and pulled a chunk of baguette from the breadbox.

“Sounds about right. And that way, you get a legal SSN and everything. All above board, nothing to worry about.” She pushed her plate to the side and began to pick at her bread. For a few minutes they ate in silence, interrupted by the sounds of crunching and slurping as Hatter finished his portion of the linguini disaster. It was nice, Alice mused, eating dinner with someone you trusted. Easy. She hadn’t expected it would be so easy- chatting and food and later, maybe, sex. It had only been a few months but it still sent a thrill down her spine to see Hatter every night after work.

“You going to eat that?” he asked, shaking her from her reverie. Alice looked down at her plate, now cool and slightly congealed, and shook her head.

“I know pasta is new, but it’s not really an oven food,” she replied, nudging it his way. His mouth twisted in a rueful smile, and he reached over and speared a piece of anchovy with his fork.

“I’ve had worse. You’ve never eaten rat.”

That thought was so unnerving that it wasn’t until she stood to clear the table that she realized that, while she’d been in the kitchen, he’d eaten what was left in the serving dish too.

***

Alice took a long time in the shower that night, letting the water pound down as her head hung beneath the spray. Work had been brutal- one of her teenage students had started puberty recently, and his lengthening limbs and sudden muscle meant that even with her training, sometimes she took hits that left bruises. She was used to it, of course, but the hot water still did wonders to ease her sore muscles.

“You in bed already?” she called as she left the bathroom, toweling her hair dry. Hatter replied with a short sound that wasn’t quite English, and she flipped her towel over the rack and followed it into the bedroom.

Alice slipped beneath the sheets and rolled towards Hatter, who was on his side, reading. “What book is it tonight?” she asked, snugging up against his back. He turned the cover towards her: Jurassic Park. “One of my favorites,” she said, and wrapped an arm around his torso. Hatter shifted closer, and they lay like that for several minutes, him reading, her just happy to be holding him.

Eventually, though, she started to nod off. When she caught herself snoring into Hatter’s hair for a third time, she gave him a squeeze and rolled away- or started to, but jolted awake at the wounded, slightly choked sound Hatter made in her arms.

Alice sat up. “Is everything alright?” she asked, alarmed and suddenly alert. After a long moment, Hatter nodded slowly.

“I’m fine,” he said, not looking up at her. She could see his ear begin to turn red at the tips. He still held up the book in front of his face, but from her vantage point Alice could see that he was no longer reading it.

“Hatter.”

Hatter blew out a breath through his mouth, then turned his head slightly to meet her eye.

“I… ate too much dinner, alright?”

Alice frowned. “I squeezed too hard.” Hatter laughed, and even though his face was bright red, she could see the tension begin to leave his shoulders.

“A bit. It… I probably shouldn’t have, but you were going to throw it away, and—” Hatter stopped, abruptly, and turned back to face his book.

“Hatter?” Alice asked again, softly. This time, he waited a long time to respond, so long that Alice wasn’t sure if he’d gone to sleep. When he spoke, it was so soft Alice almost missed it.

“I don’t like to throw it away,” he said quietly. “It’s on the table, and – and I know there will be more, you always...” He stopped and drew in a sharp breath through his nose. “I know there will be more. But I hate to not finish it. I like to feel full.” This time Hatter did not look up at Alice, simply set the book down on the bed in front of him and stared at its cover, apparently waiting for her response.

“Does it feel good?” Alice asked, carefully lying down beside him again. “Eating till you’re so full it hurts?” Hatter huffed out a laugh and rolled onto his back towards her so he could look at her again.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment, turning his head back to look at the ceiling. “Sometimes I just rub it, that soreness, and it feels so good. Safe. I know I won’t go hungry tonight.”

They lay in the bed for a few moments as Alice digested what Hatter was telling her, and then she got out of bed and turned off the bedroom light.

“Tell me, Hatter,” Alice said with a wicked smirk as she climbed back into bed. “Do you want me to rub it better?”

***

A couple of days passed quietly. Alice went to work, Hatter researched, and she helped him figure out where to meet the forger who would help him fake his proof of Nevada citizenship. They decided on a birthday for him – June 20, 1980 – and printed out a small packet of false information the two had slowly accumulated since Hatter left Wonderland: details about his fictional parents, where he grew up, and numbers for his birth weight and length.

“It’s just the one form,” Hatter reminded Alice as he gathered everything into a folder and tucked it into a plastic bag to keep it safe. “I’ve forged documents before, Alice, I would do this myself except—”

“—no printers in Wonderland, right.” Alice sighed and forced herself to stop fidgeting with her hair. “Don’t give him too much money, okay? You already know what you should be paying—”

“ _Alice_ ,” Hatter interrupted. “I’ll be _fine._ ” Alice nodded, and kissed his cheek as he slipped out the door. She was nervous for him, but if anyone could get forged documents, it was Hatter – and as he’d assured her many times, people were people wherever you went. It was just a matter of finding the right one.

Alice locked the door behind him and took a deep breath, then turned and went into the kitchen. She had work to do.

***

It started to rain on Hatter’s commute back, wind picking up just as he turned onto their block. Alice watched him hurry down the street towards their building from the kitchen window and smiled.

A few minutes later Hatter hurried into the apartment, shaking his hat out in the hall before he closed the door and hung it a hook in the hall. “Smells good,” he called as he shucked off his coat and walked into the kitchen, holding the plastic bag aloft. “I am now John Charles Remington. Legally.”

Alice smiled and stepped around the kitchen table to hug him. “Put that on the desk,” she said, nodding at the sheaf of paper. “Dinner’s ready.”

By the time he’d washed his hands and left his prize in the office, Alice had served two plates and was sitting down at the table. “Lasagna,” she said helpfully, nodding toward his plate. A small pan of cheesy lasagna sat in the middle of the table, steaming gently where she’d cut it to fill their plates. Hatter sat down with a smile and picked up his fork.

Alice watched expectantly as he took a bite and raised aneyebrow, chewing curiously. He swallowed, then asked “What’s in this?”

“I put raisins in with the cheese. Thought you’d like it.” She winked at him, and Hatter snorted into his water cup. For a few minutes they ate in companionable silence, Alice using bread to mop up the sauce on her plate. When she was done she stood to take her plate to the sink.

“More water?”

Hatter looked up and nodded. Alice smiled and brought him a second glass, then sat down and dished a second slice of lasagna onto Hatter’s now-empty plate.

Hatter paused, and looked up at her. “You cleared your plate,” she explained. “Thought you might want more.” Hatter stared for a moment, then picked up his fork and tucked in.

Alice watched, sipping her water, as Hatter ate, slower now. His stomach was starting to feel odd, stretched and full, but not unpleasant. Not yet. Every couple of bites he glanced over at her curiously, but she simply raised her eyebrows and smiled at him.

Soon his plate was empty again, Hatter scraping up the last of the sauce with his fork before setting it down. “That was wonderful, Alice,” he said with a smile. He reached for his water glass and took a drink, then watched in surprise as Alice picked up the spatula and cut another slice of lasagna. The pan was nearly empty now, but Alice said nothing as she slid a third slice onto his plate.

“You must still be hungry,” she remarked as she set the spatula down. “Cleared your plate twice, haven’t had enough?” Now she looked up at him and gave a small smile, and that’s when everything clicked into place. Hatter felt himself go warm all over.

He nodded. “It’s excellent lasagna,” he commented, slicing off a corner with his fork. It was, truly. Alice knew it, too – she wasn’t a bad cook, and for this she’d gone out of her way to make something delicious. “Very filling. I, ah, was getting hungry on the way home.” Of course, Hatter could hardly taste it at all anymore. He was too full, and with every bite his body screamed for him to stop. But he couldn’t, not with Alice sitting there, watching him.

Alice’s smile widened, and she propped her chin on her hands and watched as he, once again, finished his plate. “Feel better?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes,” Hatter sighed, suddenly breathless. His stomach ached, much fuller than it should be. Alice stood and came around behind him, wrapping him in a hug and letting her hair fall in his face. Hatter tilted his head back gratefully as she kissed him, and moaned as she nipped at his lip. Her hands wandered over his chest, and he was so distracted by what Alice was doing with her tongue that he didn’t notice her hands slip lower until she found his belly and _pressed._

Hatter gasped like the wind had been knocked out of him and tried to squirm away, but in Alice’s arms there was nowhere for him to turn. She stroked his stomach firmly for a moment longer, till he was whining against her mouth in a wordless plea, then straightened.

“You know, there’s hardly any left,” Alice remarked, pulling away from him and continuing back around the table to her side. “Seems a shame to dirty a container just to put it in the fridge.

Something like dread rose in Hatter as she picked up the spatula again and dished the last slice onto his plate. She wasn’t smiling anymore, but her eyes were bright.

“Alice,” he breathed, eyes wide. She looked at him, expectantly, and licked the spatula.

“Finish that for me, won’t you?” Alice picked up the dish and turned away, carrying it and the spatula into the kitchen. Hatter swallowed and looked down at his plate, heart pounding. Slowly, he picks up his fork.

The fourth slice was laborious. Hatter took small bites, cutting the lasagna into chunks and staring down at his plate as he picked out raisins, shifted flat pasta aside to get at the chunks of meat inside. It’s almost mechanical, now, and it took all his focus to keep lifting his fork. He was _so_ full, so aware of his stomach, which he felt sure was mounded and tight, and he when he shifted in his chair he groaned at the sensation. He didn’t dare put his fork down to touch his belly.

At some point Alice returned to her seat, saying nothing as she folded her hands on the table, eyes fixed on him. About halfway through, though, Hatter feels tears begin to threaten at his eyelids, and he looked up, fork clattering onto his plate. “Please, I—I can’t, Alice,” he whimpered, eyes blurry. “It hurts.” Alice stared at him, not saying a word, and this time it was like watching her move in slow motion as she stood and made her way around the table to him.

Alice tugged his chair back from the table, jostling him, and he whined and clutched helplessly at his stomach.

“I asked you to finish your plate,” Alice said softly, and knelt before him, reaching for his fork. He watched through his tears as she speared a bit of cheese, a strip of pasta. “Open your mouth.”

Hatter shook as he obeyed, allowing her to feed him like a child, as the tears overflowed and spill down his cheeks. He swallowed, hard, and then again, and rubbed his wrist across his eyes before looking away from his plate towards her.

“Please,” he whispered. “It, it hurts, Alice, please don’t make me—” Alice looked up sharply, and he fell silent, words dissolving in his mouth.

“Are you hungry, Hatter?” Her voice was so soft, so gentle, but her face was so close that Hatter could see the steel in her eyes. “You said you were hungry.” She stared at him, meeting his eye until he couldn’t look at her anymore and closed his own. The tears ran freely now, and he sobbed for a moment before he felt her fingers under his chin.

“Hatter. Open your mouth.” He opened his eyes again and sniffled, lips trembling. Her grip was firm, and after a moment he allowed her to pry his mouth open and slip another bite inside.

Everything hurt. It hurt to chew, and to swallow, and the food felt like lead in his stomach as it landed. Alice’s free hand was on his shoulder, now, propping him up, and he wept decadently as she slipped another bite into his mouth.

“One more,” she whispered softly as he swallowed, and he scrubbed at his face again and forced himself to stop crying long enough to open his mouth again. He chewed miserably and forced the last of the food down, and then she stood and wrapped her arms around him, still in his chair, let him sob against her dress.

“There,” she whispered, stroking his hair as he choked on air and made a thorough mess of her clothes. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He shook his head, face still pressed against her, cheeks hot. Now that the food was gone he could only feel his stomach under his hands, aching and firm, and he would have stayed there forever, pressed against Alice, if she hadn’t pulled away.

“Come with me.” Alice pulled him to his feet, bringing fresh tears to his eyes as he almost doubled over with a wheeze. She giggled. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” She wrapped an arm around him and guided him into the bedroom, helping him to lie back on the bed. The whole ordeal had him panting by the end, and she slipped his pants off before walking away to undress. He gasped as she undid the top button, and the look of pride in her eyes sent a wave of affection through him as she turned away.

For several long minutes he lay there, dazed, hands cupping his stomach, hardly able to believe what had just happened. The mattress dipped beside him, and he looked over to see Alice wearing one of his shirts as pajamas. She crawled towards him and straddled his thighs, then paused. From here she could see all of him, see his red, tear stained face, and his hair in disarray from her petting.

Alice liked what she saw.

Slowly she leaned forward and began to unbutton his shirt, moving carefully to avoid jostling him. When she got to his stomach, she took his hand and laced their fingers together, squeezing, and kissed his knuckles. Then she set it aside and moved his other hand off his belly, giving her access.

“Does it hurt?” she murmured, reaching for the next button. “Being full like this?” She ran her hand over the bit of skin that was available, feather light. “Does it feel good?” Hatter whimpered. She wasn’t done with him.

Alice pushed his shirt open, off his shoulders, but left his sleeves where they were. “Do you like it when—” her hand found its way to the center of his belly. “—I press like this?”

Hatter stuffed the side of his hand into his mouth and bit down to stop his howl of surprise, tears flowing fresh again. He nodded enthusiastically, feet kicking uselessly behind her. She stroked firmly across his belly, leaned down to nuzzle at it with her nose.

“Alice—” he begged, pulling his hand away from his mouth. “Alice, please.”

Alice smiled and scraped her teeth against his sensitive flesh. He whimpered. “This is mine,” she whispered, leaning forward so that his belly pressed against her. “I did this to you.” Hatter stared up at her, feeling like he was floating and surrounded by Alice and so, so safe.

“Yes,” he gasped, and she leaned down and kissed him. “Yes. Yes. Yours.”


End file.
